"But my glass is broken," said the Lady of Shalott.

"Sary Jane, dear!" said the Lady of Shalott, when it had grown quite,
quite dark. "He is walking on the waves."

"Nonsense!" said Sary Jane. For it was quite, quite dark.

"Sary Jane, dear!" said the Lady of Shalott. "Not that man. But there
_is_ a man, and he is walking on the waves."

The Lady of Shalott raised herself upon her little calico night-dress
sleeve. She looked at the wall where the 10 X 6 inch looking-glass had
hung.

"Sary Jane, dear!" said the Lady of Shalott. "I am glad that girl is
down by the waves. I am very glad. But the glass is broken."

Two days after, the Board of Health at the foot of the precipice, which
the lessor called a flight of stairs, which led into the Lady of
Shalott's palace, were met and stopped by another board.

"_This_ one's got the right of way, gentlemen!" said something at the
brink of the precipice, which sounded so much like a rat-trap that the
Board of Health looked down by instinct at its individual and collective
feet to see if they were in danger, and dared not by instinct stir a
step.

The board which had the right of way was a pine board, and the Lady of
Shalott lay on it, in her little brown calico night-dress, with Sary